


Building Home

by aloha_cowgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Nesting, Nesting Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloha_cowgirl/pseuds/aloha_cowgirl
Summary: Dean notices that some things around the bunker have gone missing.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 210
Collections: Demon Void Army - Family Album





	Building Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the SPN Stay at Home challenge.   
> Monday 3: Thief

“WHERE IS IT!?”

Sam paused with his spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth at the sound of Dean’s bellow echoing through the bunker. Sure enough, a moment later he was storming into the kitchen, still wearing the sweatpants and t-shirt he’d slept in.

“You took it. I know you took it,” Dean accused, pointing a finger at his brother angrily. “I want it back!”

Sam set down his spoon. “What the hell are you—”

“No! Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about! Where is it?”

“Dean— _I have no idea what you’re talking about_ ,” Sam said, stressing each word.

“First my Batman mug, then my shirt, my soap, my holster, my _friggin’ pillow_ …! And now—” He cut himself short and scrubbed a hand down his face trying to calm himself.

“Your what?” Sam asked carefully. “What’s missing?”

Dean ignored the question and turned on his heel, stomping out of the kitchen and down the hall. If Sam didn’t know, then there was only one other person to ask…

Cas pulled his bedroom door shut behind him and tested the lock for good measure. He’d heard Dean shouting and figured it was better to lock up than to risk Dean tearing apart his room in search of his missing possessions. He was halfway to the library when Dean came stalking down the hall like a tiger hunting it’s next meal. He hoped to pass by safely, but his hopes were quickly crushed.

When Dean reached him, he immediately turned, pinning Castiel to the wall.

“Where is it?” Dean questioned, leaning all his weight against the angel. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Cas.”

“Dean—”

“Where is it?” Dean repeated. His eyes were a dangerously dark shade of green and Cas had to swallow hard.

It was his own eyes that gave him away. He broke eye contact, looking guiltily down at the floor, but Dean pushed his chin back up and wouldn’t let him look away.

“Cas…,” he said with an eerie calm, “I need to know where it is. It’s important to me.”

With a sigh, Castiel pushed Dean off of himself and he turned back toward his bedroom. Dean followed quietly, but Cas could feel his eyes on his back.

“Dean, I can explain,” he tried when they reached the door, but Dean only shook his head.

Cas fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Instead of opening it, he took a step back and turned to Dean. When Dean huffed out a breath and turned the knob, Cas could only follow, mortified.

Castiel’s bed had been shoved aside. In the center of the room, blankets, sheets, and a variety of things that Dean recognized from around the bunker were arranged in a circle on the floor. He could see his missing pillow and his favorite red flannel that had gone missing last week in the centermost part of the circle. Along the outside, there were random objects lining the perimeter: his Batman mug, Sam’s headphones, candles and assorted bottles…

He stepped forward toward the nest—because it was clearly a nest, Dean realized. Castiel’s head was ducked in shame near the door as Dean leaned down and picked up a small, faded stuffed giraffe. He didn’t touch anything else, just tucked the toy to his chest.

“This is the only thing I have left from my mom,” he said. “It’s the only thing that survived the fire.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

Castiel sighed.

Nesting was supposed to be a pleasant phase for an angel, making a home for oneself with their mate. Castiel, however, had missed out on a few steps, having never found a mate himself. But if it meant leaving Earth—leaving the Winchesters, _leaving Dean_ —he didn’t care.

He and Dean had always had a profound bond, although he didn’t think that Dean understood just how much that bond really meant to him. He’d convinced himself that as long as they were together in this world, he would be satisfied. Living a life alongside the person you love, being a part of a family, _had_ to be better than any existence without Dean Winchester in his life.

When he started nesting, he hadn’t even realized it was happening. Things around the bunker suddenly seemed more interesting, more meaningful. He’d collected a handful of innocuous items that hadn’t really meant much to anyone else, but to Castiel, they felt like home. The scent of Dean’s shampoo. An old leather book that Sam had read a thousand times. The hoodie he’d worn when he was homeless. The apron Dean wore when he taught Castiel how to make pancakes.

Before he knew it, his collection had gotten a bit out of hand.

He climbed into the center of the nest and fell down to his knees, wondering whether Dean had gone to tell Sam what he’d discovered. That question was answered a moment later when the door re-opened.

Dean strode, alone, toward the nest with an armful of blankets and pillows. Castiel tilted his head in question.

“What? It’s a nest, right?” There still wasn’t a smile on Dean’s face, but there seemed to be understanding beneath his serious gaze.

Castiel nodded.

“Well… here.” He kneeled down beside Cas and began arranging the bedding in the center of the circle. He didn’t look up as he continued. “You know, you could’ve said something, Cas.”

Castiel was still in shock as he watched Dean’s contribution to the nest. “Dean—you don’t have to—I didn’t think—”

Dean stopped arranging the blankets to lock his eyes on Cas.

“I’ve read the books, Cas. I know what this is, okay? I get it... You don’t get to do the whole—,” he gestured upward, “—the whole Heaven thing.” He paused to take a deep breath and turned back to the blanket. “I want to help.”

Castiel stared, watching as Dean carefully placed each pillow.

“Dean, typically… typically a nest is built by an angel and his _mate_.”

Dean reached within the pile of blankets and pulled out the stuffed giraffe, placing it safely on the edge of the circle.

“I know.”

After Dean's meltdown that morning, Sam had decided to go for a run. He figured whatever was about to go down, he didn't want any part of it. But it had been a few hours since he'd been back now, and all was quiet and peaceful in the bunker.

He wandered down the hallway, listening for trouble. When he didn't find any, he knocked twice on Dean's door before opening it.

Empty.

He was starting to get worried, so he crossed the hall to knock on Castiel's door. He knocked twice again, but still no answer. He opened the door a crack and his jaw fell.

Inside the room, Dean and Cas were shirtless, curled together under a blanket in a... _Is that a nest??_ he wondered.

Castiel's back was tucked into Dean whose arms were wrapped around him, nuzzling into the back of the angel's neck. They were surrounded by pillows and blankets, clothing, and knick-knacks, and at their feet lay a precious faded stuffed giraffe.

Sam picked his jaw up from the floor then carefully closed the door before retreating to the normalcy of his own room.


End file.
